The Golden Trilogy pt 1 : Creation of Loyalties
by bast4
Summary: Title change, was 'Loyalty, Courage, Sacrifice'. AU!OotP. New tortures and adventures await Harry in his 5th yr, including new powers, animagi, seers, and the horrors of war on Hogwart's doorstep. HPGW, RWHG, other pairing to follow...
1. Nearing Freedom

**A/N :** I know, there are probably several people mad at me right now for not having updated my first story, Guardian. *cringe* I will update that one day, hopefully soon. I know what I want to write, but I can't get it on paper. So irritating! *pulls hair in frustration* Anyways, I wrote this piece up a while ago, and I'm putting it up now to give all you people something to read until I can get up the next chapter of Guardian. So enjoy! 

**Disclaimer :** Harry Potter and all the characters in the books are not mine. If they were, I wouldn't have killed Sirius in the book 5 and, thus, would see no reason in writing this. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, who will be expendable after writing book 7 and will meet a horrid and gruesome end by the hands to angry fans if Sirius is not returned to the land of the living and other such things fixed. Ok, enough ranting from me. I don't own the characters, but I do the plot, so go away, all you pesky lawyer people. 

**another A/N :** Enjoy the story. It's my first, so please be kind. Wait, I can't say that anymore. Well, I did write this long before I came up with Guardian, so technically, it was my first fanfic. Whatever. Oh, and Neutral, if you're reading this, please forgive me for using your rather kool idea of the "nearing *whatever* " chapter titles. I'll stop if you want me to.

**PG-13** for some graphic descriptions (get your minds of the gutter, I'm not talking anything sexual. …yet. We'll have to see about that one…and don't give me that look, april!)

**Chapter One – Nearing Freedom**

By bast4

**Hogwarts Castle, August 31, 11:30pm**

Deep within the walls of the Fortress of the Light, people gathered to discuss the future of the Wizarding world. Arriving in ones or pairs by Floo Powder, Portkey, or broom, their feet carried the men and women through the corridors of the castle and to the door of a room hidden by various protection spells in the forbidden depths of the Third Floor corridor. Hand after hand reached out and pulled open the heavy oak door to enter a large room. Within it, witches and wizards were greeting each other as they sat down at their places at a great rectangular table, the chairs cushioned to allow comfort through the long meetings. Torches and candles lit the room from their places on the walls and ceiling.

Another door opened and an old wizard with long white hair and beard strode into the chamber, followed by a strict-looking witch whose graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun and a tall sallow wizard with pitch black greasy hair and a rather long nose. The elder wizard took a seat in the tallest chair at the table's head, and everyone else slid into his or her own seat, falling silent as their leader prepared to speak.

"Welcome, everyone. I'm glad that all could make it here tonight. I hope that this meeting and all the others that will follow won't disrupt your schedules too much. We have faces both new and old around this table tonight, so before we go any further, perhaps introductions are in order. I, as many of you know, am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and the leader of the Order of the Phoenix." The wizard nodded his head to the witch on his left, and the giving of names continued.

"Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts."

"Severus Snape, Potions Master."

"Arabella Figg."

"Mundungus Fletcher."

"Nymphadora Tonks, but call me Tonks."

"Kingsley Shackebolt, ministry worker."

"Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, ex-Auror."

"Arthur Weasley, ministry worker."

"Molly Weasley."

"Bill Weasley, curse worker in the ministry."

"Charlie Weasley, dragon caretaker for the ministry."

"Madame Poppy Pomfrey, med-witch."

"Filius Flitwick, Charms professor."

"Sybil Trelawney, Divination professor."

"Calinda Vector, Arthimancer of the Order."

"Roselyn Sprout, Herbology teacher."

"Remus Lupin, new DADA teacher and werewolf."

"Sirius Black, innocent ex-convict and ex-Auror."

Once everyone had given his or her name, Dumbledore nodded once again and spoke, "Now, we are the Inner Circle of the Order of the Phoenix. We are here to discuss how to hinder the growing threat of the Dark Lord Voldemort." No one flinched. "As our spy, Snape, has told me, Voldemort is planning to attack Azkaban and gather the Dementors from there. He is also drawing allies from the trolls and other Dark creatures. The Ministry still does not believe that Voldemort as returned, despite the attacks on Muggles and Muggleborns throughout the summer. Kingsley, Arthur, you two must see what support you can get from the Aurors. Tonks, Mundungus, Alastor, you must gather what allies we have in the rest of England and keep your eyes and ears open for any information on Dark actions. Severus, find out what you can from the other Death Eaters, but be careful; we can't have a valuable spy like you be caught. Everyone else, we must work to protect and prepare the students. Voldemort will no doubt try to attack Hogwarts as his forces grow stronger. We must make sure that they are as able to defend themselves as we can make them, in the likely possibility that we will be attacked. Now, Arabella, how are things with Harry and the Dursleys?"

A witch in her mid-forties cleverly disguised as a woman in her eighties straightened in her seat between the potions master and the dark-skinned ministry worker. Her gray eyes darkened with worry as she spoke. "Things are amiss, Albus. Those rotten Muggles seem to treat Harry worse than ever, often keeping him confined to the house and keeping up a steady rain of insults. I've hardly seen Harry, which is strange as the Dursleys usually like to dump him like an unsavory package on my doorstep every once in a while. Also, there seems to be a great deal of yelling and screaming over there. I heard that Vernon Dursley is having business problems, but one of the voices sounds much too boyish to be his or his whale of a son.

"There's another mystery to this as well. I have sensed an abnormal amount of magic in the house. Yet, the wand detector hasn't made a single beep. I think that it may be wandless magic, but what I don't understand is how it could be appearing in these large amounts. It's one thing to have sporadic flares if Harry's upset or something, but this seems to be rather constant and too strong to be just Harry losing his temper. Something's up over there. Something is definitely up."

Remus glanced concerned at his old friend and fellow Marauder. Sirius had gone pale and thoughtfully worried at this news of his beloved godson. It killed him that he had had so little contact with Harry over the summer, and he secretly worried that Harry may hate him for not being there or at least sending more than two short letters over the break. The black-haired man looked at his old headmaster, who wore his own worried and thoughtful expression.

Dumbledore sighed wearily. He had been worried about Harry for quite some time. The events of the Third Task no doubt weighed heavily upon the young Gryffindor. More than once, he wanted to bow to Sirius's requests – well, demands – to fetch or at least visit the young Potter. Yet each time, he had denied permission, sending Sirius and Remus off on some task or another for the Order. Now, Albus silently prayed that all was indeed well with Harry as he spoke, "We will have to keep a sharp eye on him when he returns to school tomorrow evening. Arabella, if you would keep a close watch and see to it that he makes it safely onto the train in the morning?"

With her nod, Dumbledore opened his mouth to end the short meeting when the door through which most of the Order members had entered swung open. All eyes turned and several hands went for their wands.

A tawny barn owl soared into the room, a letter scroll tied to its leg. With a flap of its large silent wings, the bird landed before the aged Headmaster and held out its burdened limb. Dumbledore took the letter and watched as the owl blinked, shook itself as if waking from a trance, and winged out toward the school owlery. Breaking the plain wax seal and unrolling the scroll, Dumbledore read aloud :

_Order of the Phoenix, _

_I hope you forgive me for entrancing one of your Hogwarts owls, but my owl was unavailable and this message could not wait. Voldemort plans to send twenty-five Death Eaters, excluding your Severus Snape, to attack the wizarding village of Loamhold at 3am on August 31 from the north. The main targets are some of our hopeful allies, Andrew Salles and his wife Emily; Emily's sister, Pamela Michaels; the cousins, Candace and Sophia Willings; and Richard Holes. All will be of aid to the side of Light if we can assure they live through the night. May you succeed in saving them tonight, and all be well for the events to come upon us in the near future. Gryffindor's Heir has some surprises in store for you and his enemy. As for your request I give you my true name and come take refuge in Hogwarts, I merely say this : you already know me and I am far closer than you think. _

_So mote it be. _

_Firesight _

Dumbledore looked at the wizards and witches seated before him, his eyes glittering with fire, as he set down the message. Firesight was a mysterious and powerful Seer whom had first contacted the Order in early July with warning of a Death Eater attack. The Order had not listened to that first word, and the Muggles had been killed. The messages of attacks or such had been heeded ever since for the Seer had never led them astray. At times, askings of advice were sent to the ally, and the information sent back was always sound and helpful. It was feared that Voldemort would capture this Seer and use him or her against the side of Light, but the Seer had brushed aside the Order's concerns time and time again. Messages had also been sent to members of the Ministry who were loyal to the Light and editors of the Daily Prophet, allowing the information of the Dark Lord's return and the activities of his minions to slip out to the Wizarding public. After all the aid Firesight had given so far, Dumbledore wasn't about to stop heeding the Seer now. Eyes locking on Mad-eye Moody and Mundungus's determined features, he knew the Order was in for a busy night.

**Little Whinging, Surrey, September 1st, 4am **

The house of #4 Privet Drive was quiet in the early hours of the morning. Or it was somewhat quiet. There were only the usual noises of sleep ringing through the walls of the home. Vernon Dursley's rumbling snores swept through the house, rivaled only by the thundering of his only son, Dudley. Petunia Dursley added the wheezy high-pitched snores to the rumbles of her husband and son. All three Dursleys lay still, lost deep in the realm of sleep.

With the serenade that the Dursleys made in sleep, the house could hardly be called silent. The quiet was instead the lack of roars of anger, whimpers and cries of pain and fear, cracks of whips and belts against ravaged flesh, and sickening thuds of fists striking an already tender bruised body. These sounds had rung like ominous funeral bells and harsh gunshots through the house for the past several weeks. Ever since summer's start and the return of the Dursley's strange nephew.

The said nephew lay quiet on the dirty bed in the smallest bedroom of the house. He held his entire body stiff and still, partially to not make a sound and awaken his relatives, but also in an attempt to hold the pain of various wounds at bay. Ears straining for any sound that would warn of wakefulness coming upon the other member in the household, dark dull eyes slowly opened in a pale thin face. Having received no sign of danger from his relatives, the fifteen-year-old boy slowly struggled into a sitting position, biting his lip hard to keep any sound of pain slip out. After resting a moment and putting on a pair of black-rimmed glasses, he staggered to his feet and walked quietly to the door of his room, moving slowly as to not cause himself too much pain.

Upon reaching the door, a thin hand rose to touch a spot a few feet above the doorknob. Concentrating on the thought of keys turning and opening locks, he moved his hand down until it reached the knob. Shaking his head slightly to banish his dizziness, the boy silently opened the door and walked the short distance to the bathroom, leaving the half-a-dozen locks arranged on the outside of the door unlocked behind him. The boy flicked on the light, closed the door, and, bracing himself, turned to face his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Dull emerald eyes gazed at the figure shown in the mirror. Wild black hair half covered the lightning bolt-shaped scar marring the boy's forehead, but the nest of hair could hide the black bruise circling the right eye or the cut from a glass-studded whip on the thin cheekbone. Tight lines of pain and hunger, suffering and grief surrounded a slightly swollen and bloody lip and the once-bright bloodshot eyes. The dark gaze continued down the thin body, mentally tallying the various injuries done upon it over the past two months.

A slash of blood and skin marred the left shoulder where a kitchen knife had done its damage. Various bruises and slight indentures on the somewhat broken and battered ribcage bore evidence of the furious blows to the torso, a shoeprint or two painfully visible. The left arm and wrist was at a somewhat awkward angle, testimony to the broken bones hidden by the thin flesh. A tear/once-scar dripped blood from the crook of the right elbow, reminder of the painful memories of mere weeks before. The legs, covered by a pair of raggedy slacks, were also mottled with bruises. Turning carefully on a possibly-broken/at least-badly-sprained right ankle, the boy looked over his shoulder at the rest on the damage.

The back was the final and most gruesome evidence of the abuse, the other injuries bearing a faint light to the harm portrayed there. Several dozen lash marks sliced through the pale skin, blood running down them to darken the fabric of the pants. Tiny bits of glass glittered in some of the cuts, marks of the glass-covered whip Vernon Dursley had bought in the first week of August. Pus bubbled in some of the older slashes of belt and bullwhip, proof of the lack of care given to the wounds. Dark bruises covered any sliver of uncut skin from where the Dursley males had thrown the boy about quite a few times in their "fun". Beneath the blood were the scars of beatings from the past few years of life in the Dursley home.

The boy's bony shoulders rose and fell slightly in a soft sigh. Turning back to face the sink, the boy opened the medicine cabinet and withdrew a nearly full bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He took off his pants and underwear, opened the shower door, cast a quick and powerful silencing charm upon the bathroom and a couple locking charms on the bathroom door, and stepped into the shower. Slowly twisting open the bottle of disinfectant, the boy braced himself. As to not lose courage, he quickly flipped the bottle over and poured the cleansing liquid down onto the cuts covering his back. The scream of pain that ripped from his throat made him very thankful of the strong silencing charms on the room. Trembling hands clenched as the disinfecting liquid did its work. Those hands then rose and turned the shower dials, bringing a torrent of water down upon the shaking body. The water washed away the grime and blood, sweat and dirt of the past several weeks of suffering.

At long last, the dials were turned again and the water trickled to a stop. The emaciated form stepped, or rather staggered, out of the shower. Thin hands grasped a towel to rub dry the soaked black hair and, afterwards, another to gingerly pat dry the battered body. A pair of clean underwear and pants were slipped on and cleansing charms done to remove the blood from the damp towels. After glancing around to see that he had left nothing out of place, the boy turned, removed the charms set about the bathroom walls and door, and silently left the room to retreat to the filthy bedroom that had been his prison cell for the duration of his summer vacation.

Reaching his room, he went inside and quietly closed the door. Waving a hand at the door again, he focused on the locks once more. Once all were secure and he was "efficiently" locked in again, the teen dragged his tired body to the wardrobe and pulled out a long strip of sturdy white cloth and a somewhat dirty, rather baggy white t-shirt. Biting his lip hard, the boy grasped his injured left wrist and, pulling gently, painfully aligned the broken bones. Gasping in pain, he grasp the line of cloth and proceeded to wrap it around the sore wrist and arm, firmly securing his wounded limb. Once that whole pain-filled venture was done, he slowly pulled the t-shirt on, grimacing in pain as it stuck a bit to the cuts criss-crossing his back. After he had straightened the large shirt a bit on his thin form and stopped panting in pain, he stiffly sat down on the bed and stuffed his feet into his tennis shoes, yelping softly in pain as he jarred his sore ankle.

Once he was ready to face the outside world, he stared the slowly lightening sky clear through his bar-covered window. That sky had mocked him all summer, reminding him of the world that lay outside this room, this house, this hellhole he had been trapped in. Now, that sky looked bright with the promise of freedom and a better, happier place. True, it was just as dangerous and sometimes painful, but there were people who cared about him there, who didn't beat him into a bloody pulp or insult him on sight day after day. Well, okay, Malfoy did insult him on sight, but his remarks were nothing compared to the hell he had lived through with the Dursleys. Sighing, Harry Potter whispered to the lightening bedroom, "Just a few more hours and I'll be free of this place. A few more hours and I'll be headed back to Hogwarts, headed home."

An approaching figure shook Harry out of his thoughts. Focusing his sights on the steadily nearing dot in the sky, he staggered to his feet and dug under his mattress for the bits of bacon and bread he had saved. With food pieces in hand, Harry made his somewhat painful way to the window and pulled up the glass pane a few inches, waiting for the now-clearly-visible owl's arrival.

Hedwig landed gracefully on the windowsill, having become used to accommodating around the barred window of her young master's early in the summer. She carefully edged as close to the gap in the window as she could and patiently awaited her owner's next move. The snowy owl remained perfectly still as her master's thin hand reached between the bars and tugged free the letter scroll bound to her leg. Next, the hand returned with the slightly old bits of bread and bacon, which the bird gratefully ate, not minding their age as she knew very well the situation in the household. Her golden eyes watched her master unroll and read the message from the cat woman of the castle, concern filling her large spheres at how bruised and malnourished he had become in the time she had been away.

_Mr. Potter, _

_I received your request and am a bit bewildered and concerned by it. As thus, please come directly to me when you arrive at school tonight, so that we can discuss the reasons of your relinquishing of the offered Prefect status. I'll be waiting in the entrance foyer for you. _

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

Harry read over the letter again and sighed, wincing at the pain of his aching ribs. Summoning a quill and a small bottle of ink with a bit of wandless magic, he drew a line under the deputy-headmistress's message and wrote his own :

_Professor, _

_So be it. I'll meet you tonight. And can you please see to it that Hedwig is taken care of and placed in the owlery? Thank you._

_Harry Potter_

Resealing and re-rolling the piece of parchment, Harry reached through the bars of his window yet again and carefully tied the message to Hedwig's waiting leg. Gently stroking his faithful owl's feathers, he softly said, "Take that to McGonagall, please, girl. And stay at Hogwarts. I'll see you there soon." Hedwig cooed and gently nibbled his fingers affectionately before hopping away a bit. After a loving glance and another soft reassuring hoot, she opened her white wings and started to make the journey back to the castle that was her young master's true home.

Harry watched in silence for a long time after his loyal owl was out of sight. He remained standing there, dreaming of the freedom he would soon have until his aunt's shrill shout of "Boy, come make our breakfast" and the unlocking of the various locks on his door broke him out of his musings. Sighing, he slowly shuffled out of the bedroom into his last morning at the Dursleys.

Ok, that's that. Please review, flame, criticize, question, comment, whatever. I just want to hear from all you lovely readers! Please! * big watery puppy dog eyes *

And don't hurt me! I will update Guardian when I get past my writer's block! Please be patient!

And yell at me if there are any mistakes. Me, not my beta-reader, sara. I should have caught anything after looking over the bloody thing so many times. *grumble a bit* Had to fix a few things before putting it up after showing my beta-reader, so don't yell at her.


	2. Nearing Hogwarts

**Disclaimer :** all the characters and Hogwarts belong to J.K. Rowlings. they're not mine. so there.

**A/N :** well, here's the second chapter. hope you guys like it. review responses are at the end. 

**Chapter Two – Nearing Hogwarts**

By bast4

**King's Cross Station, September 1st, 10:28am **

Ron Weasley pushed his full trolley down the platform of King's Cross train station, drawing ever nearer to the barrier to the Platform 9 ¾, his family following in his wake. Fred and George were trading sly glances at the thought of all the mischief they were planning to make in their last year of Hogwarts. Ginny was talking to her mum, who was making sure that her youngest child had everything. Mr. Weasley listened to his wife and only daughter with half his attention, the other half watching around him for any sign of trouble and his youngest son's best friends.

Ron himself was silent. As he walked closer to the train that would take him to his 5th year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his mind was full of worries. The actions of the newly reborn Dark Lord, the concern that his father and elder brothers who worked at the Ministry of Magic may be attacked, the nervous curiosity of what prank his twin older brothers may try to pull on him. But he was most worried about his best friend, Harry Potter.

There had been next to no word from the Boy-Who-Lived all summer. And while he knew that correspondence was hard for Harry with those Muggles his friend lived with, Ron had the feeling that there had been a great deal of trouble for his friend this summer. He couldn't forget how his best friend had looked when he appeared out of the maze of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, the pain and grief that was written over Harry's pale face as he clutched Cedric Diggory's cold body with one hand and the golden cup with the other.

Harry hadn't been the same since then, his eyes dark with suffering and memories as he went about the last few days of school. Ron had wanted the school year to last another few weeks just so he could have the chance to talk to Harry, comfort him, support him. He knew that Harry would blame himself for what had happened to Cedric and for the rebirth of the Dark Lord, that his best friend would be wracked with guilt all summer, and that those good-for-nothing Muggle relatives would do nothing to help him. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had argued with Professor Dumbledore a great deal over the summer months, trying to convince the old wizard to allow Harry to stay at the Burrow for the summer, where he would have people to love and support him. The Headmaster of Hogwarts had refused each time, saying that Harry was protected from Voldemort (Ron shuddered slightly at the name) while the saviour of the Wizarding world was with his relatives. Nothing the Weasleys said would change the man's mind, so they were forced to worry about Harry from afar, unable to help the troubled teen.

"Ron!" A shout shook the redhead from his thoughts and he looked around in confusion. Somehow, he had ended up on the Hogwarts platform with no memory of passing through the barrier. "Ron!" Someone called out his name again, and the teen looked ahead to see his bushy-haired other best friend, Hermione Granger, come running toward him. Ron smiled and held open his arms, embracing the girl who ran into them. "We've only been apart a few days, Hermione. Did you miss me already?" He said kindly, a chuckle thrumming through his voice.

Hermione grinned up at her boyfriend as she pulled back. Gazing up at his laughing blue eyes, her grin widened even more as she reached up and caught Ron's lips in her own. The pair of lovers held each other for a few moments, arms wrapped tightly around one another as though they hadn't seen their other for months. Finally, they broke apart, panting for breath as they looked happily at each other. A soft cough caught their attention back to the present. Both jerked to the right in surprise, and grinned sheepishly at a grinning Mr. Weasley. Politely ignoring the blushes crossing the young people's faces, he said, "Come on, let's get you two on the train. It will be leaving soon." The pair nodded and headed toward the nearest train entrance while Arthur went to exchange a few words with a pair of friends he had spied, the black maned man nodding at something his tall brown-gray-haired companion had said.

Ron and Hermione struggled a bit to get Ron's trunk onto the train and, with Hermione grabbing her own trunk, the pair wandered down the train to get to their usual compartment at the end of the train. Various year-mates called out greetings at the friends as they past compartment after compartment. Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw, poked his head out to ask Hermione about a letter he had sent her. Colin Creevey waved at Ron with a camera on a strap around his neck, his brother Dennis smiling at them. The Patil twins, Padma and Parvati, gave them waves as they chattered. Neville Longbottom greeted them with a wave and a smile, a bit thinner for exercise over the break while Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan called out hellos, Seamus looking rather tan from a trip to the Philippines over the break and Dean sporting an earring on his left dark-skinned ear, the three Gryffindors sharing a compartment next to theirs. The Weasley twins were already in their compartment with Lee Jordan, the three peering into a box that the Quidditch commenter had pulled out of his trunk, their compartment right across from the Gryffindor trio's. Hermione pulled open the compartment door and stood in shock at what lay within, Ron gazing surprised and concerned over her shoulder.

Harry lay curled up on one of the cushioned seats, his brilliant eyes closed tightly in sleep. Their friend looked awful, dark circles under his sunken eyes and pale skin stark against the black Hogwarts robes he had already put on. Sweat dotted his brow and made some of his black locks stick to his forehead, revealing the scar that marked him to the whole wizarding world. He shifted slightly, wincing in sleep and drawing his left arm closer to his chest before settling again.

Hermione glanced at Ron over her left shoulder, and the teens quietly entered the compartment and stowed away their belongings for the journey. Turning to each other, Ron whispered, "What should we do? Should we find a teacher or my mum?"

"No," Hermione murmured back. "You know Harry won't want the attention. Let's just let him sleep. He looks exhausted." Ron nodded silently. Both teens gazed, concerned at their sleeping friend.

"Look how thin he is." Ron said softly, anger making his voice tremble. "It looks like his relatives starved him!"

The door slid open and Fred's voice called, "Hey you two. Mind if we –"

"Shh!" A pair of voices furiously shushed the now 7th year Weasley.

"Huh--? Oh..." Fred's expression changed from confused to surprise to concerned in mere seconds as he looked around and caught sight of Harry's sleeping form. Quieting, he whispered, "Is he alright?"

"We don't know," Hermione whispered back, eyes full of concern as she watched her bespectacled friend sleep. "He was like this when we came in."

"Fred, have you asked them –?" George popped his head in and fell silent in surprise at the scene inside. His brown eyes met the matching spheres of his twin before turning back to the fifth years. "Ok, scratch that," he murmured as he watched Hermione drag out a light blanket and tucked it gently around Harry's thin figure.

"Fred, George, can you do us a favor?" The twins looked startled at their younger brother, surprise and banters on their tongues. Any funny or slightly sarcastic remarks disappeared at the determined and concerned look on Ron's face. They nodded silently, waiting for him to go on. "Can you keep Malfoy and his gang out of here? We don't want them –"

"Say no more, little bro." Fred interrupted, a hand raised for silence. "Yeah, don't worry. We'll keep those slimy gits away from here. Malfoy would have a field day if he saw Harry like this." George continued his twin's thoughts. Uncommon looks of earnest concern and seriousness were on their faces as they turned to leave the compartment. "Lee could help too," said Fred to his twin as the train suddenly jolted and began to move along the tracks. All four pairs of eyes shifted to Harry, who shifted and sighed softly into a deeper slumber. Releasing their own sighs of relief, the twins left to discuss Slytherin patrol with Lee and the friends sat down to talk quietly and keep a vigil on Harry.

About half an hour later, Hermione was pulling out a book to help Ron with a few questions on summer's Transfiguration homework when the compartment door slid open again to reveal Neville's round face. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get any farther than that at the sorry sight of Harry. After doing an impression of a landed fish, he yelped in surprise as Seamus, looking past him, said rather loudly, "Wha- what happened?" Ron and Hermione shushed them immediately. Then they all froze as Harry moaned softly. Eyes watched warily as he pressed himself farther onto the back cushions before falling still and silent again. They all released held breaths before Hermione turned to the trio of boys at the door as Dean had joined them without making a sound, a rather cross expression filling her features.

Ron quickly stepped in before Hermione lost it and started shouting, which was sure to wake Harry. "We don't know what happened. He was like this when we arrived. Fred, George, and Lee are doing snake patrol. Anything else you want to know?" He had said this all rather quickly, so he was left panting slightly as the others flicked their eyes from Ron to Harry in silence.

After a few moments, Dean softly but firmly spoke up, "We'll help keep those Slytherins away. Let us know if you guys need anything." With a nod from the two, Dean led Neville and Seamus out and quietly closed the door.

Hermione, brushing a few damp strands of Harry's hair from his face, hissed in surprise at the heat she felt emanating from him. "He's burning up!" she said when Ron glanced at her with concern. She quickly transfigured a pair of quills into a basin of cool water and a soft cloth. After wetting and wringing it, Hermione gently stroked Harry's overly warm face and neck before setting the cool cloth over his eyes and forehead, putting the black-rimmed glasses next to her seat. Leaning back on the cushions next to Ron, she said, "I hope he'll be alright." Ron could only nod and squeeze her hand reassuringly, keeping his own worries quiet. Giving him a small smile, Hermione settled to help Ron with his studies as Harry obliviously slept on.

**Hogwarts Express, nearing Hogsmeade, 6:33pm**

"What do you mean, I can't come down here. I'm a Prefect, so I advise the lot of you to get the hell out of my way. Else I'll see to it that you all detentions with Filch and 30 points taken from Gryffindor Each." Draco's loud raucous voice cut through the end of the train, making Ron and Hermione glare angrily at the door. Harry stirred slightly, the voices drawing him away from the Seeing-dream of him being reunited with Sirius and Remus. Not wanting to open his eyes yet, Harry listened to the argument taking place in the hallway.

"Well, it just so happens that a Prefect is the one who gave us orders to keep your filth out of here," Fred growled, any humor replaced by cold steel. "So you had best take your rock-skulled flunkies and go crawl back into the hole you slithered out of."

Snarling in annoyance, Draco drew his wand to hex the Weasley twins into a pair of slugs or some such, but hesitated as another compartment door opened to reveal three other wands pointed at him, anger filling the faces of the newly emerged students. Seamus and Dean glared ferociously at the Slytherins, and even Neville had a surprising steady grip of his wand as they prepared to curse as necessary. The Creevey brothers and Lee Jordan came up from behind, completing the circle around the trio of snake-crested students. After glaring at the surrounding Gryffindors, he shoved his wand back into his robe pocket and stomped off, cursing under his breath and pushing Dennis into a wall as Crabbe and Goyle scrambled after him as fast as their fat selves could go.

Harry, hearing his Slytherin nemesis stalk off, blinked open his eyes and glanced around the compartment. Silently summoning his glasses from the seat across from him, he put them on as he slowly sat up, putting aside the blanket that had been draped over him. Wincing in pain, he quickly did a magic check and was relieved to find all the concealing charms he had cast on himself were still in place. The last thing he needed right now was his friends' pity and questions that he really didn't want to answer.

Turning his attention outward again, Harry studied his two best friends. Ron had seemed to have had a bit of a growth spurt. He would top Harry by a couple inches now, but that was no surprise. Harry was one of the shortest in his year after all. The red hair was a bit longer and sun-streaked, probably from playing Quidditch with his 5 elder brothers in the field of a backyard at the Burrow. The blue eyes were glaring at the door, blazing with anger and annoyance at the parting Slytherin Prefect. The now-darker dash of freckles stood out against the summer's tan on Ron's scowling face. Shaking his head slightly, Harry shifted his focus to the girl seated beside the redhead.

Hermione had seemed to have tamed her wild bushy hair a little, the frizzyness transforming into calmer curls. The smooth skin was flushed slightly pink, no doubt in indignation to Draco's attitude. She had grown a bit as well, probably an inch or two shorter than Harry. The bloodshot eyes caused a tremor of alarm to brisk through him, the slight puffiness of her eyes giving evidence of tears not so long ago. Those brown eyes were also fixing an anger gaze upon the closed door. She sat rather close to Ron, closer than she had sat before with the redhead or any boy. Harry didn't bother to contain a sly grin from crossing his face; it seemed that a lot had happened between his two friends over the summer. About time, as far as he was concerned.

The compartment door suddenly slid open, making his friends jump slightly and causing Harry to flinch. Thankfully, Ron and Hermione were focused on the newcomer rather than him. "That slimy git shouldn't be back any time soon," said Fred, wiping his palms briskly. "I hope that…. Blimey, Ron, I thought you would've taken your watch duty more seriously. You coulda told us." Ron gave a questioning look at his older brother, but it was Hermione who caught on first, looking at the seat across from her.

"Harry!" she squealed and leapt across the distance to capture him in a sudden and tight hug. It took all the will power Harry had to keep from pulling back at the suddenness or crying out in pain as she wrapped her arm around bruises and cuts. Harry wrapped his own arms around his friend and squeezed her gently, careful of his broken wrist. The pain was mounting and Harry didn't know how much longer he could stay quiet. Thankfully, Ron came to the rescue by saying, "Hermione, let go of him before you break him. Let him breathe already." Hermione started slightly and released Harry, grinning a bit sheepishly as she drew back. Harry grinned back in return, showing that he didn't mind but carefully kept any sign of pain or relief from his face.

"Well," Fred said. "Good to see all's well here. I gotta go change into my robes. See you all at the feast!" With a grin, he closed the door and strode off before any of the trio could respond. Hermione sat down again next to Ron and the three fell into a rare uncomfortable silence, not quite sure what to say.

"So," Harry said, breaking the silence. "Looks like you two have become more than just friends over the summer." He slowly let that sly grin creep out as both of his friends blushed to nearly match Ron's hair. Leaning back a bit against the cushions, careful of his sliced-up back, Harry raised an eyebrow, emerald eyes dancing, waiting for them to say something.

Hermione spoke first, still flushed with embarrassment, "Well, I stayed over at the Burrow most of the summer. That way I wouldn't prove at target to the Dark Lord and lead danger to my parents."

"Yeah," Ron pitched in. "Plus, with all the wizards and witches at my place, she would be safe and in good company." He hesitated, glancing at his girlfriend before studying his best friend's face as he said, "You're. …You're not upset. About me and Hermione, that is."

"No," Harry responded, shaking his head fiercely. "Why should I be? It's about time you both admitted it. Oh, and remind Ginny that I get five Gallons."

"You're not mad?" Hermione asked eagerly. She and Ron had both been a bit worried that Harry would be angry over their relationship at they would be focusing a bit more on each other and not spending as much time with Harry. Then, she frowned in confusion and asked, "Wait, why does Ginny owe you 5 Gallons?"

Ron caught on first this time and snarled, "Harry Potter, have you been betting on my love life?"

Harry shift uncomfortably and looked out the window at the forest whipping past for a moment. Looking back at his not-so-patiently awaiting friends, he grinned sheepishly and admitted, "Well, pretty much the entire House was in the betting pool. I just suspected that you'd be together before the 7th of September, that's all." Harry drew back a bit at the angry glares that were directed at him and had to remind himself rather forcefully that Ron and Hermione won't hurt him, they weren't the Dursleys, his friends will not hurt him.

"Oh well." Ron said, drawing Harry back to the here and now. "Least you got some money." Hermione drew back, glared, and hit her boyfriend on the shoulder. Ron looked at her and shrugged. With a sigh and shake of her head, Hermione calmed as well. Harry took this time to draw up his legs so he could rest his chin on his knees, ignoring the soreness that it caused him. "Hey, you been getting the Daily Prophet?" Ron asked, turning back to Harry. Harry shook his head. "Well, there's this organization called the Order of the Phoenix that's been fighting You-Know-Who. Fudge still denies that He's back, so the Order and some Aurors on their side have been fighting You-Know-Who instead. They've saved a whole bunch of people by getting there before things get ugly. The Prophet says it's thanks to this Firesight guy."  
  
"Ron, it may not be a guy." Hermione cut in. "For all we all know, Firesight could be a witch. Anyway, Firesight's a Seer, which means he or she can See the future and stuff. The rumor is that this Seer has been sending warnings to the Order when an attack is gonna happen, so they can get there in time. No one has any idea who Firesight really is."

"Dad says it would be disastrous if You-Know-Who got a hold of Firesight. Then You-Know-Who could use Firesight to See what the Light is gonna do and avoid it. The Order wants Firesight to come hide in their custody, but no one knows if he's gonna do that." Ron absently took Hermione's hand as he spoke. "This Firesight also sends warnings to Dad and some other people in the Ministry who believe in the truth."

"Rumor as it that Firesight may even be a stronger Seer than Rowena Ravenclaw." Hermione brought her I-Know-All voice as she continued. "Rowena Ravenclaw was not only one of the four Founders, but also the most powerful Seer yet. Firesight would have to be extremely strong in the Sight to match, much less surpass, her."

"Well, who knows." Harry finally said. "This Firesight seems to be a real mystery, but at least he's on our side."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something else when the train gave a bit of a jolt as it slowed to a stop at Hogsmeade Station. Harry rose and moved to leave the compartment, his friends following. Striding out into the corridor, he saw Fred and George grin at him. Dean waved as Neville and Seamus exchanged relieved looks as the trio passed.

Once outside, Harry looked around over the other heads for a glimpse of Hagrid. "He's not here," Ron said after a moment, blue eyes also searching for the huge half-giant. Hermione followed her friends as they made their way through the crowd of students. She couldn't help but notice the way Harry was acting. He was limping a bit and still seemed rather tired, but that's not caught her attention. Harry was flinching each time someone brushed against him, trying to avoid physical contact as he wove through the horde of bodies. Hermione frowned, worried and confused as they made it out of the crowd and clambered into one of the horseless carriages that would take the second years and above to the castle.

As they started to ride along up the path to Hogwarts, Hermione leaned forward and tried to catch Harry's attention. He was gazing silently out the window, brilliant green eyes darkening with memories. Hermione had the distinct feeling that he was thinking of the Third Task and Cedric Diggory's death. Over the summer, Ron had worried that Harry would blame himself for the Ravenclaw lad's death, and she could help but agree. Harry was the type to take on unneeded guilt and grief like that.

She had to say his name three times before Harry finally started and looked at her. Seeing she had his attention, Hermione voiced her concerns. "Are you all right, Harry? You slept through most of the train ride, had and probably still have a high fever, and look like you haven't had a good night's sleep for a while. Plus, you seem all brooding and quiet now. What's on your mind?" As Harry didn't say anything for a few moments, probably trying to decide what to say to try and calm her, Hermione lowered her voice a bit and asked the final question, "Are you thinking of Cedric?"

While her earlier questions had been met with little emotion, Hermione's last question had a rather different reaction. Harry's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed in pain. What little color was in his face drained quickly. Pain, grief, guilt, and other emotions whipped over his features before they became a blank mask. What caught her and Ron's attention was Harry's eyes. They grew dark and distant, a maelstrom of emotions trapped inside their emerald depths, emotions that Harry had kept locked within for the past few months of pain. He turned his distant gaze to the window again while the watching friends exchanged glances of concern and dismay. The rest of the ride was made in silence.

**Hogwarts Castle, same evening, 7:40pm**

Deputy-Headmistress Minerva McGonagall waited impatiently for the arrival of the carriages bearing the older students. The first years wouldn't arrive until after eight, so she had some time to complete a particular task. Her steel-blue eyes flicked from face to face as she drummed her fingers against the wall to her right. She was searching for one face in particular. A pale thin face with round-frame black glasses around the brilliant emerald-green eyes of his mother, all topped by that stick-in-every-direction black hair that he had inherited from his father. Peeking through the hair on the pale forehead would be the famous lightning-bolt scar that marked the lad to the whole wizarding world. Minerva McGonagall was anxiously waiting for Harry Potter.

Suddenly, there he was, and she gasped in shock at the sight of him. Harry was walking to the left of the youngest Weasley son and the other Gryffindor Prefect, Miss Granger. The dark-haired teen was stick-thin and extremely pale, which made the dark circles under his eyes stand out even further. He walked a bit stiffly and with an obvious limp. Then those emerald eyes caught sight of the stern transfiguration professor standing on a staircase to the left of the entrance hall. After whispering something to his friends, Harry slowly mounted the stairs toward Minerva.

Forcing herself out of her shock, McGonagall nodded in greeting and, with a curt "Follow me", led the too-small-for-his-age Gryffindor upstairs, to the left, and into an unused classroom. Letting her student enter first, Minerva firmly closed the door and murmured a quick silencing charm around the room. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Harry. He stood there, silently watching her. After a moment, Potter decided to take the initiative and stepped forward, drawing the silver Prefect badge from his pocket. "I think you should take this back," he said, holding it out in the palm of his hand.

"Why don't you want to be a Prefect, Potter?" McGonagall asked calmly, ignoring the out-stretched hand. The answer surprised her. "Because," Potter said equally calmly, "I have enough on my plate as it is. The Gryffindors need someone who can give them the attention and aid they need. I'm going to be busy with Quidditch and such, so it wouldn't be right as I wouldn't be able to give my House, or the other Prefect duties, the needed time and focus. I'm sure that there is someone else who can give to Gryffindor what I can't right now."

The blunt honesty shocked Minerva into stunned silence. She remained standing there, lost in thought, not noticing Harry walking over and placing the silver badge in one of her hands, much less him quietly leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Most fifteen year olds she knew weren't this … responsible? reserved? She didn't quite know what to call it, but whatever the quality was, it made Harry that much more unique. Firesight was right; Harry, Gryffindor's Heir, certainly did have a few surprises up his sleeve. 

Thank you everyone for your reviews! and thanks to my beta-reader, sara!

**Review Responses :**

**almususa :** I was stuck on both stories for a while, actually, GUARDIAN somewhere in the middle and this one at the end. I didn't know how to end LCS's second chapter, and my beta-reader disappeared for a while, so I didn't have anyone to bounce ideas off of. but, I managed to break through both writer's block (obviously), so here's more! 

**athenakitty : **hope this chapter answers some of your questions. more on the abuse in chapter 3. thank you for reading! 

**clingon87 :** well, here's more. 'peace+love ack'? confused. o.O please explain.

**kiki :** I'm sorry! I'm working on GUARDIAN. I'm gonna upload a new chapter of that at the same time I put this up, so don't kill me! 

**Li :** *grin* so happy you like! I love Harry, but I can't help having the Dursleys abuse him. It makes Harry's character all the more interesting, to have suffered through abuse like that along with being an orphan and on Voldie's hit list and everything else. honored to have fans! I'll update GUARDIAN too, don't worry.

**Nicoletta** **:** *raises glass in honor of Harry Potter* I guess you can call this my first, as it's the first I wrote if not the first to put up here on Fanfiction.net. I'll go read your fic if you read my other two. *grin*

**nobody important :** rise, child, no need to beg. *muffle laughter* here's more, so get up. *grin*

**ping*pong5 :** yay, I wanted to really show Harry's pain. glad you liked. yes, this is Harry's 5th year we're going into. so, yes, Sirius is very much alive. *cheers* no need to bring out the flying monkeys. I'm updating this along with GUARDIAN and putting up something new. as for your question about Firesight's identity, you'll just have to wait and see.

**Random :** glad you can follow it! and happy it's mistake-free. I was a bit worried about that. and don't worry, you're not alone in the loving-seeing-Harry-abused category. have you read "Recnac Transfero" by Celebony? (think that's how you spell the title) it's a good Harry-suffers fic and in my favorite stories list. you may like it. here's the next chapter!

**sara :** took a while to figure out a title (as you know). glad you like. and good to hear from you! *grin*

**serebii :** happy you like it so far! here's more!

**Treska SilverFlame :** happy you reviewed! no, this won't be a cross-over, this is purely Harry Potter. sorry for the occ-ness, but I have a hard time keeping everyone in character. that plus my brain runs away with the characters, so sorry again. as for Harry sticking around the Dursleys, he feels that he deserved the beatings and such, as he feels guilty for Cedric's death and Voldie's rebirth and everything else. plus, where could he go? he realized he didn't have anywhere to go; if he went to the Weasleys, he'd put them in danger, and he didn't know where Sirius or Remus were nor wanted to be a burden to them. (he's got a guilt complex, poor kid.) so, yeah. I kinda gave spoilers here by telling you all this, but you'd read of that eventually anyways, so no biggie. hope you'll keep reading! and update some of your own stories soon!

**Viresse430 :** you changed your pen name thingie. again. glad you liked the descriptions. GUARDIAN will pick up soon. glad you like!

**wanderingwolf :** what makes you think Harry's Firesight? and glad you're liking the story.

**Yana5 :** glad you like so far. *grin*


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